


Thank-You (for Letting me be Human)

by joypendants



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Character Death, M/M, have some cute stuff and then some tears, nothing too graphic tho??, some fluff too at the start, there's some violence, whoops sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joypendants/pseuds/joypendants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the companionship that Sheik had been given, he was willing to give up anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank-You (for Letting me be Human)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this was a request I got from someone on Twitter!! It was fun to write, though it didn't quite come out how I expected (actually, it came out longer than I thought it would, which was sorta nice!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

 

Days, weeks, months: Goddesses only knew how long the Hero had been travelling the once-peaceful lands, Sheik shadowing him all the while. He was a protector, after all –– he looked after the Princess and the Hero alike (though the two ways were quite different; he was the Princess’ eyes and ears, but for the Hero, he was a guide and a companion). It was a role that he easily fell into, as he had been raised for such a thing: If Link were a sword, then Sheik was a shield. If Link was a knight on a chessboard, then Sheik was a pawn (or, perhaps, a rook). 

Sometimes, if he was able to, Sheik would spend the night with the Hero. Though Link might not say it, Sheik could tell that he found it quite reassuring to have another person by his side. (Though Navi might be nice to have along and quite helpful at times, she wasn’t exactly the best look-out, nor was she the best to have at one’s side during a fight.) Link was quite relaxed, though his weapon was never out of reach: Though he might have Sheik with him, it was never good to be unprepared. (Sheik was rather proud of Link for keeping his guard up; he had come a long ways from when he had first set out after his seven years in the Temple of Time.)

This was one such night; the stars above them were unobscured by clouds, and Link was telling Sheik some of the tales of the constellations that he had learned from his childhood friend Saria. (Sheik found it quite endearing when Link did such things; it gave him a chance to simply listen, a thing which he was quite content to do.) The enthusiasm that coloured his kind tones was almost childish, hands gesturing about as he spoke, blue eyes quite alive with happiness, boyish features graced by a wide smile. 

“––That one, you see it? Right there? Look, it makes the shape of a huge bird! Apparently, one of the first Hero’s rode one to get around a city that was in the sky…” On and on Link chattered, and Sheik couldn’t help but smile, though the expression was all but hidden by his customary cowl. Still, to hear a friendly voice was quite the pleasant thing, and it relaxed him, his back against a tree trunk, cloak wrapped about his shoulders. Though he might have been silent for a good majority of the time, he _did_ enjoy the Hero’s company.

“Imagine it, though –– being able to fly above the clouds. Don’t you think it would be nice?” Link was laying on his back, quite close to where the Sheikah was sitting. There was a moment of silence before Link spoke again, his voice a bit quieter. “Don’t you ever wish you could just… You know, fly away? Leave it all behind?” 

The change in tone caught Sheik’s attention, and he tilted his head to look at Link. Sometimes, Sheik forgot how young the Hero really was –– he hadn’t been given the chance to grow up and mature like everyone else had. He might handle things well, being stronger than most, but still. Surely it had to take its toll. 

“…Sometimes, I do,” Sheik responded honestly, a quiet sigh slipping from his lips. “Sometimes. I think _everyone_ does, truthfully…” It in a moment of weakness that he admitted that, tired scarlet eyes not quite meeting the Hero’s brilliant blue. 

Link sighed, pushing himself up to come sit closer to the Sheikah. “You think?” he murmured, resting against the same tree trunk that Sheik was, arm brushing against the other blond’s. 

Sheik let out a quiet hum of agreement, not trusting himself to say any more. For some reason, he found Link rather disarming in his sincerity and kindness –– it was quite endearing, and it put Sheik quite at ease (something that he was not accustomed to). Perhaps it was because he was being treated as an equal, perhaps it was something else… He was not entirely certain, but he did know for a fact that he felt more ––  _human_ around Link than he did with anyone else. 

At some point, Sheik must have drifted off, far more exhausted than he had initially thought he was, for it was the _snap_ of a branch that woke him, head snapping up and hand instinctively going for his knife. This movement startled Link, who snapped awake and reached for his sword even before he was fully conscious. 

“What is it?” Link whispered, blue eyes glancing about muscles tensing as he rose to his feet. “Is someone coming?”

Sheik nodded, fluidly rising to his feet, cloak that he had been using as a blanket falling to the ground by his feet. Putting a finger to his lips, he moved towards the source of the sound, footfalls all but silent as he moved, scarlet eyes narrowing as he stared into the night, ears straining for any sign of––

Hearing a movement behind him, he twisted about, instinctively bringing up his knife to block an unseen blow. 

_Tch–shing._

The enemy’s blow was blocked before it could do any harm, and Sheik grunted at the force of the impact. He himself was not physically weak, but this enemy was _far_ stronger than he had anticipated them to be. 

Twisting away from them, backing up through the darkness, Sheik drew his other blade, holding it before him. Teeth were bared, dark eyes narrowed, as he struggled to see in the dim light of the night. (When had it become cloudy? What wouldn’t he give for it still be bright, the moon shining down and the stars twinkling above him?) Still, he could make out the shape of his foe, and, lashing out with his left hand, he felt his blade bite deep into flesh, followed by a low grunt of pain. Following up with his right, he twisted, and, seeing his enemy fall forwards, he slashed upwards, slitting their throat (though, not in the neatest fashion possible). 

“Link, be careful there is someon–“ Sheik broke off as he heard the sounds of a struggle, and, turning, he hurried towards it, knives clenched tightly in tanned hands. _How many of them are there?!_

Hurrying back into the clearing where he had left the Hero, Sheik saw two more enemies (large, armoured, and both carrying swords –– features were concealed by hoods and cowls) locked in combat with the green-garbed blond. Bloodied blades held tight in tanned hands, Sheik rushed to join the fray, teeth bared in a show of defiance.

Slash, block, lash out with a foot, twist, pivot, block a punch, stab, slash–– It was a dance, almost, albeit fatal. It was all bloodied blades and fluid movements, a lethal dance of knives and swords. Each party obviously knew what they were doing: Not one step was made that was unnecessary, not one movement wasted. Both Link and Sheik were almost amazed by how carefully calculating their enemies seemed to be; this was no normal foe. 

Still, Link and Sheik too were deadly enemies to have –– Sheik was quick and agile, Link fast and passionate. They did not give up easily, no, but they were tiring, quite unlike their foes. Hero and guide alike had not had adequate rest for this; they had been travelling for a long time, giving little thought to their own well-being. Now they were paying for that, it would seem; the two warriors that they were fighting seemed to have limitless energy, and far too much brute strength. 

A punch caught Sheik in the stomach, and he doubled over, coughing, blades falling to the forest turf below –– it felt as if he had been hit with something made of pure metal! A kick caught him in the side, and he went down, hearing Link all but growl behind him, metal grating against metal. Rolling to the side, Sheik attempted to scramble to his feet, scarlet eyes glancing about for any sign of his weapons, but alas, it was too dark to see! Where had the moon gone? Why was there no light? Another kick caught him in the side, and Sheik coughed again; he was certain that he felt something crack that time, a sharp pain flaring, darkness dancing at the edge of his sight–– 

Hearing the Hero cry out in pain behind him pulled Sheik back to the present. He felt a fury that he had never known rising in his chest. He was frustrated, ashamed of himself for getting injured, and, above all else, worried for Link’s well-being. Channeling that anger into a metaphorical weapon, and scarlet eyes narrowed. He was going to end this –– and _fast._

Blocking another punch of bruising force with his forearm, Sheik’s hand twisted, grabbing his enemy by the wrist as he used his other hand to draw a throwing needle and, though he felt a sharp pain in his stomach (he’d been stabbed, some part of his mind registered), he plunged the needle into his enemy’s throat and jerked it sharply to the side. Kicking his enemy in the stomach, Sheik knocked the larger person to the ground, turning away to go help the Hero.

He saw that Link was wounded, a knife embedded in his shoulder, and his blade was locked with his foe’s. Ignoring the pain in both his ribs and his stomach, fuelled by rage, Sheik rain towards them, intent on killing the larger enemy before they could do any more damage to the Hero of Time. 

However, as he got close, he saw Link fall to the ground, winded by a punch to the stomach that he had been too slow to block. Seeing his attacker draw his sword back for the final blow, Sheik had no thought for himself as he jumped in the way, feeling the blade pierce through his body only to be ripped out again, his strength draining as if pulled away with the blade. Before it was gone, however, Sheik pulled his attacker in close, teeth bared in defiance. 

“ _Fuck_ _you_ ,” he hissed, using the last of his strength to stab the man in the throat with the already-bloodied throwing needle. “Rot in _hell_.”

The deed done, Sheik’s legs gave out, and he fell to the ground, feeling his breathing become ragged. Seconds felt like days, but he vaguely felt his body being gathered up in someone’s arms, familiar blue eyes swimming into view. 

“Sheik–– Oh, Goddesses, Sheik––“ The voice seemed to be coming from a long tunnel, Sheik thought, but it was familiar. Link? It was Link, wasn’t it… 

“S-sorry,” Sheik gasped, the word barely passing his lips, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. “And th-thank you…” _Thank you. For being my friend, for letting me love you, for letting me be human with you. Thank you for being alive. Thank you for letting me die for you, for letting me die while still human._ “I–“ 

The words didn’t pass his lips though, not this time. This time, he when his chest fell, it was for the last time, scarlet eyes staring up into blue ones, into the clouded sky. 

And all Link could do was sit there and cradle the bloodied body of his companion, his guide, and weep to an uncaring sky, begging for his friend to come back.

_Fin._


End file.
